


Heat Rock

by RedShirtWriter34567



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Cold Weather, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23210455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShirtWriter34567/pseuds/RedShirtWriter34567
Summary: Crowley is cold, so he cuddles his favorite heat source.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	Heat Rock

Crowley blew on his hands and rubbed them together as exited the Bentley. It was a chilly day in England, cold enough that humans were walking around with hats and scarves bound around their necks. Crowley loathed the cold almost as much he hated thunderstorms. Cold weather made him slow and achy, sapping away his strength. Just getting out of the Bentley and walking into Aziraphale's bookshop was a challenge. He quickly slipped into the warm shop and sighed in relief. His joints were already starting to get stiff. The little bell above the shop door jingled as he closed it.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale called from the back room.

"It's me," Crowley called back.

He sauntered through the shop and into the back room. Aziraphale was sitting in his armchair, his glasses on as he thumbed through a first-edition Chaucer. His white winged mug sat on the table beside a taller stack of books. Crowley slipped his glasses into his pocket and all but flopped onto the couch, making himself comfortable. He still ached in places, still felt cold despite the warmth in the shop.

"Are you alright, dear boy?" Aziraphale asked, peering over his glasses at the lounging demon.

"It's cold," Crowley said matter-of-factly. "Makes my joints ache. You know that, Angel."

"That I do," Aziraphale agreed, setting his book and glasses aside. "Do you need anything? A drink, perhaps?"

Crowley shook his head and draped his forearm over his golden eyes. "M'tired. Just need to sleep."

"Of course, my dear," Aziraphale said. He rose from his chair and draped the green tartan blanket that was spread across the back of the couch over Crowley. "Sleep well, love."

Crowley hummed in reply and pulled the blanket up higher over his shoulders. Aziraphale slipped a pillow under the demon's head and stroked his sharp cheek bone gently. Crowley's skin felt cool to the touch, which was worrisome. Aziraphale bit his bottom lip and smoothed the demon's red hair back from his face. Hopefully, as long as he stayed warm, he would be alright. The angel placed a light kiss on the demon's brow and returned to his chair. He picked up his book again and resumed his reading, sipping the hot chocolate from his mug. Crowley slept, but he seemed restless. He shifted around under the blanket, his lithe frame wracked by shivers. His face was tight with pain, his hands white-knuckled as he gripped the blanket. 

'His joints must already be stiff,' Aziraphale thought worriedly. 'He can't get comfortable that way.'

At one point, Crowley whined in pain and pulled the blanket completely over his head. His lanky shape slowly shrunk until it was replaced by a coiled-up shape. 

"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked. 

A low hissing sound was his answer. A black-and-red snake slowly uncoiled itself from under the blanket and slithered across the floor toward the angel. Crowley crawled up Aziraphale's leg and slowly coiled himself up again on the angel's belly. His forked tongue flicked out, gold eyes shining in contentment. Aziraphale chuckled and stroked the smooth scales.

"Comfortable, are you?" he asked.

The snake hissed again and coiled up tighter. The angel chuckled and began reading again, holding the book with one hand while petting Crowley with the other. He rather enjoyed the solid weight of the serpent curled up on his belly. Crowley was often more comfortable in his snake form when it was cold, even more so when he cuddled with his favorite heat source. They stayed that way for a long time, until Aziraphale decided that it was best for them to head upstairs, where it was much warmer. He carefully moved Crowley from his stomach to his shoulders, draping the serpent there to avoid jostling him too much. He held back a laugh when he felt a tongue flick against his ear and walked upstairs to the bedroom, where he deposited Crowley gently onto the bed.

"I'll be right back, my love," he said, petting the snake's head. "Would you like something to drink?"

The snake hissed, eyes glinting. Aziraphale took that as a yes and went off into the kitchen, making them both a cup of hot chocolate, pouring Crowley's into a black mug with devil horns on the rim and a tail for the handle. He glanced up and saw that his lover had shifted back to his human form and was sprawled across the bed, his red hair tousled roguishly. He sat up when Aziraphale brought their drinks over and accepted his, taking a sip and sighing at the warmth.

"How do you feel, dear boy?" Aziraphale asked, sipping his own drink.

"Better," Crowley replied. "Warmer, but still achy in some places." He took another drink and set his mug on the nightstand. He stretched out onto his back, joints cracking loudly as he sighed in relief. "That feels better."

Aziraphale chuckled and stroked a hand through Crowley's soft hair. "I'm glad to hear that."

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that," Crowley suddenly apologized. "I just couldn't get comfortable in this form."

"It's quite alright, love," Aziraphale told him. "I don't mind being your heat rock."

"Good, because until this cold snap ends, you're the best heat source there is," Crowley said. 

He rolled over onto his side and draped an arm across Aziraphale's lap, keeping him near. The angel laughed and laid down, pulling the demon closer. Crowley pressed his face into his angel's soft stomach, inhaling his scent. He fell asleep again quickly, his breath warm through the angel's clothes. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and a heated blanket appeared, draping over Crowley's sleeping form. A sleepy, pleased smile tugged at the demon's lips as he snuggled impossibly closer. Aziraphale absently stroked his demon's hair, quite enjoying his ability to help keep his demon warm.


End file.
